A Monster
by Kayin
Summary: Short drabble in first person perspective of female Cousland after the Landsmeet.


_One-shot drabble in first person perspective of female Cousland after the Landsmeet. I do not own Dragon Age or any characters therein. Please enjoy. :)_

**A Monster**

I close the large heavy wooden door quickly but quietly, and lean my forehead against it as I stand in the empty room and sigh. I close my eyes tight, ignoring the fact that the room is dark and uninviting. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves.

I needed to get away.

It's all too much to take in at one setting.

I feel like a coward leaving Alistair there to face all those nobles. But if he's going to be king, he's going to have to get used to it. No better way to get used to the water than to plunge right in.

The Landsmeet was a success. All of my goals have been met, the country is united under Alistair, Loghain is dead, Anora is in prison and I'm in charge of the King's Army in order to defeat the Blight…

So… why is my heart breaking?

I open my eyes, looking down at my armor. Despite the fact that my armor is the traditional black of the Grey Warden dress armor, I can still see them, the red droplets and smears of blood. Mostly dried and partially congealed. My face contorts into a wicked sneer.

Sodding bastard got what he deserved.

My memory flashes to the history book that Aldous was teaching me to read with and the section on King Maric and Loghain during the Orlesian War. I understood Loghain's hatred and paranoia of the Orlesians. I felt that way before I confronted Howe. Fear of that magnitude can drive a person mad.

Mad is definitely what he was. You could see the wild gleam in his eyes, like a horse about to bolt. I don't understand how any of the nobles didn't see it until I brought it to their attention. Some still didn't want to leave his side, even after the proof of slavery in the Alienage!

Loyalty. Loyalty to the Hero of River Dane, the man who lead the army of Ferelden against Orlais to win their freedom, and usher in the Dragon Age. I could understand that. I could understand wanting to believe in someone so much that you are blind to what they are doing.

He was a hero at one time. At least he died nobly, and with dignity.

"_Daughters never grow up Anora, they remain six years old with pigtails and skinned knees… forever."_

My own father's ragged breathing fills my thoughts, and I remember the blood –oh the blood!—on the larder floor, and his voice so calm, even in pain, as he begged Duncan to take me away to safety as his dying wish. His eyes so solemn as he accepts his fate, leaving his last prayers to the maker for my safe escape.

A sob escapes my throat. I turn and lean my back against the wooden door. My chest constricts with the effort to keep myself under control. Anora's blood streaked face clouds my vision, her shaky voice as she says "father," one last time for Loghain to hear. Loghain's eyes as solemn as my father's as he watches his daughter and awaits his demise. Her shriek of despair and muffled crying rage in my ears as she kneels in her father's pool of blood.

What have I done? I took her father away from her. She will never see him again, just as I will never see mine.

Angrily I slam my head against the door, willing the visions to stop.

Loghain abandoned us on the battle field. He is the direct cause of King Cailan's death, Duncan's death, the loss of Lothering, and the rest of the Grey Wardens.

I slam my head against the door harder, attempting to remove the visions of snow covered bodies, torn apart camps and Cailan's naked body put on display.

Loghain deserved what he got. Anora sided with her father, and tried to get me and my friends killed. She may not have deserved to see her father killed, but she cast her own die.

These are the things that needed to be done to save Ferelden, to save Thedas, to save ourselves. I'm a Grey Warden, I need to be able to do anything necessary to defeat the Blight. I'm a killer of darkspawn, a killer of men, appointer of kings, defeater of demons and now a leader of armies.

I should be invincible. I should _feel_ invincible.

…all I feel like is a girl who misses her daddy.

And I've just robbed another girl of hers.

I slide to the floor.

What am I?


End file.
